‘And my life depends on your seamanship.’
The wind carried away his response. Suddenly the crew were readying a small craft to slide into the river, and fifty yards off Theo could see men on the schooner doing the same. Dark figures spoke in urgent whispers, and then the two scows pulled fast through the water toward each other until their port sides rubbed together like dogs greeting one another and a crate passed over their bows. It took no more than ten minutes for the boats to be back aboard the mother vessels and the crate to be hauled away from thieving hands into the rattan hut.
Theo could not bring himself to look at it, so he stayed on deck, but he could hear the junk master slapping his broad thighs and laughing like a hyena. Theo stood in the bows as they skimmed back upriver and was tempted to light a cigarette but thought better of it. Now that they were carrying the contraband they were in real danger, and a glowing cigarette end might be all it took. He was aware that the oil lamp in the hut had been extinguished and they were travelling across the water like a dark shadow, with only the moon’s cold glare to betray them. He stuck a Turkish cheroot in his mouth and left it there, unlit.
He was trusting Mason. And deep in his heart he knew that was a mistake. If that bastard hadn’t done his part, then the skipper was right. Neither of them would see the dawn. Damn him. With an uneasy growl he sucked on the cheroot, tasted its bitter dregs, and then tossed it down into the waves. Self-interest was Mason’s bible. On that Theo had to rely.
But every breath of the way, he prayed for clouds.
The patrol boat came from nowhere. Out of the night. Its engine roared into life and raced at them out of a narrow inlet, pinning the junk in its powerful searchlight and circling it with a fierce surge of bow wave. The junk rocked perilously. Two men leaped overboard. Theo didn’t see them but he heard the splash. In a moment’s madness it occurred to him to do the same, but already it was too late. A rifle in the patrol boat was fired into the air as a warning and the customs officers in their dark uniforms looked ready to back it up with more.
Theo ducked into the hut and before his eyes grew accustomed to the deeper level of darkness, he felt a knife at his back. No words were said. They were not necessary. To hell with Mason and his sworn oath. ‘No patrols tonight, old boy. You’ll be safe, I swear it. They want you there on the boat.’
‘As a hostage to their own safety, I assume.’
Mason had laughed as if Theo had made a joke. ‘Can you blame them?’
No, Theo couldn’t blame them.
A match was struck and the kerosene lamp hissed into life, drenching the air with the stink of it. To Theo’s surprise it was the junk master at the lamp. The knife was in the hand of the woman. Her man was growling something so rough and coarse that Theo couldn’t understand, but he had no need to. The long curved blade in the skipper’s right hand was not there to open the crate at his feet.
‘Sha!’ he shouted to the woman. Kill.
‘The cat,’ Theo said quickly over his shoulder. ‘Yeewai. I’ll take her.’
The woman hesitated for only the beat of a wing but it was enough. Theo had his revolver out of his pocket and pointing straight at the junk master’s heart.
‘Put down the knives. Both of you.’
The skipper froze for a moment, and Theo could see the black eyes calculating the distance across the hut to the Englishman’s throat. That was when he knew he would have to fire. One of them would die right now and it wasn’t going to be him.
‘Master, come quick.’ It was one of the deckhands. ‘Master, come see. The river spirits have driven away the patrol boat.’
It was true. The sound of the engine was fading, the fierce searchlight gone. Blackness seeped back into the hut. Theo lowered the gun and the junk master instantly leaped out on deck.
‘They were bluffing,’ Theo muttered. ‘The patrol boat officers just wanted to let us know.’
‘Know what?’ the woman whispered.
‘That they are aware of what we’re doing.’
‘Is that good?’
‘Good or bad, it makes no difference. Tonight we win.’
She smiled. Her front teeth were missing but for the first time she looked happy.
The shack on the riverbank was foul and airless, but Theo barely noticed. The night was almost over. He was off the water and would soon be in his own bath with Li Mei’s sweet fingers washing the sweat off his back. Relief thundered into his brain and suddenly made him want to kick Feng Tu Hong in the balls. Instead he bowed.
‘It went well?’ Feng asked.
‘Like clockwork.’
‘So the moon did not steal your blood tonight.’
‘As you see, I am here. Your ship and crew are safe to run another night, another collection.’ He rested a foot on the crate that stood between them on the floor, as if it were his to give or take away at whim. It was an illusion. They both knew that. Outside, a cart stood ready.
‘Your government mandarin is indeed a great man,’ Feng bowed courteously.
‘So great that he talks to the gods themselves,’ Theo said and held out his hand.
Feng let his lips spread in what was meant to be a smile, and from a leather satchel on his hip he drew two pouches. He handed them to Theo. Both clinked with coins, but one was heavier than the other.
‘Do not forget which is yours,’ Feng said softly.
Theo nodded with satisfaction. ‘No, Feng Tu Hong, I will not forget what I owe this mandarin, you may be sure of that.’
‘Don’t be angry.’
‘I am not.’
But she was standing stiff and silent by the window. Theo had not expected this.
‘Please, Mei.’
‘It is only fit for the stewing pot.’
‘Don’t be so brutal.’
‘Look at it, Tiyo, it’s a disgusting creature.’
‘It will catch mice.’
‘So will a trap, and a trap doesn’t stink like a camel’s backside.’
‘I’ll bathe it.’
‘But why?’
‘I promised the woman.’
‘You promised her you’d take it. That doesn’t mean you can’t eat it.’
‘For heaven’s sake, Mei, that’s barbaric.’
‘What good is it? It will do nothing but eat and sleep and sharpen its claws on you. It’s just ugly and nasty.’
Theo looked at the grey cat hunched under a chair, its yellow eyes full of pus and hatred. It was certainly ugly, with half one ear missing and its face battered and scarred. Its fur was patchy and looked as if it had not been washed in months.
Theo sighed, exhaustion taking over. ‘Maybe I’m hoping that when I’m old and ugly and crochety, someone will do the same for me.’
He caught her smiling at him.
‘Oh, Tiyo, you are so… English.’
He lay in bed but he didn’t sleep. Li Mei’s breath was sweet and warm on his neck and he wondered what dreams made her eyelids flicker so fast, but his own anger at what he had done tonight was too cold and hard in his chest to allow sleep to come. Drug trafficking.
He reminded himself of the reason why he’d risked his life out there on the river in a matchstick boat. His school. He would not give up his Willoughby Academy. Would not. Could not. What difference did it make?
But they would be over soon, these night excursions. He promised himself that.
19
Lydia was at her schooldesk when the police came for her. She was in the middle of writing into her exercise book a list of the mineral wealth of Australia. There seemed to be a lot of gold down there. Miss Ainsley escorted the English officer into the classroom, and Lydia knew before he even opened his mouth that she was the one he’d come to arrest. They’d found out about the necklace. But how? The fear that, because of her, Chang might also be cornered by police made her feel ill.
‘How can I help you, Sergeant?’ Theo asked. He looked almost as shocked by the intrusion as she was herself.